She Got the Marriage License and I Got 99 Broken Promises Chapter 06

She Got the Marriage License and I Got 99 Broken Promises Chapter 06

In an instant, the memories came flooding back. 

Nolan remembered the old days. 

Back then, they had lived in a basement studio 

that cost next to nothing a month. The clothes on 

their backs were thrift–store finds. 

Even the brand of soap they shared was the 

cheapest generic on the shelf. 

And still, those had been the happiest, fullest days 

of his life. 

Grandma Evelyn had always smiled when she told 

him not to skip meals, always urging him to eat 

more. 

She had mended his clothes by hand, and her 

stitching was so neat you could barely tell they 

had ever been torn. 

He remembered the time she’d scavenged a slice 

of fancy cake from a catering gig. She’d kept it in the fridge for three days, refusing to take a single 

bite until he was home to share it. 

By then it had already spoiled, gone a little sour. 

But when he tasted it, it had seemed sweeter than 

anything he had ever eaten. 

That was the kind of woman she had been. 

Whenever she had something good, he had been the first person she thought of. 

If Tessa had it, he had it too. She had cared for him the way a grandmother would care for her 

own grandson. 

Tessa’s cooking had come from her. 

She could take the simplest vegetables and turn them into something rich and satisfying, the kind of meal that made you want to keep eating long after you were full. 

One bite of her food used to carry him through 

half a bowl of rice. 

And then, all at once, he remembered Tessa’s 

voice on the phone from forty–eight hours ago, devoid of hope, brittle with unshed tears. 

“B3… the hospital.” 

He remembered her too, silently packing her 

things, dragging her suitcase behind her as she 

walked away without once looking back. 

Only then did he finally understand. 

Nolan’s eyes went red. He raised his hand and 

slapped himself hard across the face. 

Sabrina admired the diamond ring on her finger, 

the one worth millions, and laughed coldly. 

“What’s the point of acting regretful now? Weren’t 

all the things I did allowed because you let them 

happen?” 

She lifted her eyes to him, each word sharper than 

the last. 

“Didn’t you complain to me all the time that she 

was too much? That she nagged? That she was 

so quiet and dull she didn’t even feel like a real 

woman?” 

“Didn’t you say she got on your nerves? That she wasn’t the girl she used to be, that you were tired 

of her, that she always brought up her 

grandmother and used that to weigh you down?” 

Every word Sabrina spoke sank into Nolan like a 

blade. 

With a snarl, he lunged and wrapped a hand around her throat, his eyes bloodshot. “Shut up,” 

he spat. “I said shut the hell up.” 

Sabrina’s face flushed red almost instantly. Her 

neat, pretty features twisted as she clawed at his 

hand, gasping for air, beating against his arm with 

all her strength. 

The mansion was full of Nolan’s people. 

Not one of them dared step forward to stop him. 

On Brooke’s birthday, I got dragged into cooking 

for everyone, as expected. 

But Miles Mercer, a friend of hers I barely knew, 

decided he was my new sous–chef. 

He was well over six feet tall, and with him pacing around behind me, turning in circles and reaching over my shoulder every five seconds, the whole space felt impossibly cramped. 

The next time I almost backed straight into his chest, I finally snapped, shoved him toward the 

door, and said, “Out.” 

He looked genuinely disappointed. “What a 

shame,” he muttered under his breath. 

I ignored him and went back to cooking. 

It wasn’t until I watched him obediently carry a 

dish out to the dining table that I finally relaxed enough to believe he might stop getting in the 

way. 

Then I looked at the table. 

Almost every plate was nearly empty. 

I stood there in silence, staring. 

Across the room, three pairs of eyes turned in perfect accusation toward Miles. 

For once, even his usually lazy, handsome face showed the faintest hint of guilt. He cleared his 

throat. “The smell was too good. I couldn’t help it.” 

Then, with zero shame, he added, “I left some for 

you, didn’t I? It’s enough.” 

He really could eat. 

Miles calmly popped the last piece of sticky 

braised ribs into his mouth, leaned back, and let out a deeply satisfied sigh. 

“Now this,” he said, “is actual food. You should 

enter a cooking competition. You’d take first. 

place. I’ll sign you up myself.” 

When he looked at me, his gaze was direct and 

hot enough to make me uneasy. 

“My kitchen’s huge,” he said, his voice warm with 

suggestion. 

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow and practice. 

there? Plenty of room. No crowding.” 

Then he paused, just long enough to make sure I 

was listening, and added, “I live alone.” 

I choked on absolutely nothing. 

Heat rushed straight to my ears, and I didn’t dare 

look at Brooke, who had suddenly gone 

bright–eyed beside me. 

This man really had a talent for saying the most 

outrageous thing with a straight face. 

Back at the mansion, Nolan sat in his bedroom staring at the cremation certificate, drowning in pain. 

“Mr. Hayes,” the house manager said carefully 

from the doorway, “Ms. Vale is demanding to see you. She says if you won’t come out, she’s not 

leaving.”